


Adoption is Inevitable

by HashtagLEH



Series: Something Like a Family [10]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Abusive Lonnie Byers, Adorable Dustin Henderson, Antisemitism, Billy Hargrove Being Less of an Asshole, Billy Hargrove Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Gay Billy Hargrove, Gay Will Byers, Gen, Homophobic Language, Mike Wheeler Loves Eleven | Jane Hopper, Neil Hargrove is His Own Warning, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Stranger Things 2, Protective Billy Hargrove, Protective Mike Wheeler, Racist Language, Slurs, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson Friendship, Will Byers & Billy Hargrove Friendship, also because Neil, also previously used others, because Neil, but the racism is a theme, it's a single line though, only mentioned though he does not make an appearance, specifically the N-word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29097504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HashtagLEH/pseuds/HashtagLEH
Summary: How Billy sort of accidentally came to adopt The Party.Or, alternatively:Fucking Leeches.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove & Dustin Henderson, Billy Hargrove & Lucas Sinclair, Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Billy Hargrove & Mike Wheeler, Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove & The Party, Eleven | Jane Hopper & Billy Hargrove, Will Byers & Billy Hargrove
Series: Something Like a Family [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2009263
Comments: 13
Kudos: 125





	Adoption is Inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Lots of racist slurs used in this installment, toward blacks, Mexicans, and Jews. If you want to skip it, it's the section with Lucas and Max, and if you're not sure I have a summary of that section in the end note so you can double check. I don't want to offend anyone or have you believe that I ascribe to these sort of racist thoughts - it's Billy remembering Neil's words and actions in the past, and we all know Neil is a piece of shit. But I wanted to warn you just in case.

**Will**

Billy was bored. It was a Friday afternoon, and he was bored because there was nothing to do in Hawkins and everyone he knew was _busy_. Max was at the arcade with her little monster squad – not that he considered the arcade a fun time anyway, so it wasn’t like he was missing out – and Steve was in a double detention after school to make up for missed classes or some shit so he could still graduate on time. Everyone else in the town was for shit, and Billy didn’t have any desire to return home early when he knew Neil was already home from work – it would make his dad suspicious and he didn’t want to be inviting anything just because he was _bored_.

Drinking away the time sounded unappealing too, although that may have been because he’d gotten rip-roaringly drunk the night before and was still feeling the effects of it. But perhaps that was more due to the bruises littering his left side and the stiffness in his neck when he turned his head – alcohol couldn’t numb the effects of abuse forever, after all. It had been good medicine while it lasted, and he’d even managed to keep it from Max, because she had been in AV club or something when Neil had gone off on him the day before.

Whatever. He shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts – he would always try to forget Neil as much as he could when he wasn’t there – and then winced a little at the heat that spiked in protest up the back of his neck, lifting a hand to try and rub the tension out of it.

With a sigh, he put his Camaro into drive; sitting alone at the quarry was pretty pathetic, even for him. He didn’t even have the excuse of getting high; it just didn’t hold the same appeal without Harrington there to shoot the shit with.

He drove back in the direction of town, wincing a little when he slid on ice in some parts, because he knew he was going to have to get new tires soon – ones that were cut out for a Midwestern winter rather than Southern California weather. He’d been putting it off for a while, but everyone in school was talking about how it was going to snow next week, and he figured he ought to trust the judgment of the people who’d grown up in the area and get the damn tires before he slid into a ditch or some shit.

He rounded a corner in the road next to some run-down park, and squinted his eyes against the setting sun. There were some boys at the edge of the park, near the road, and mindful of the ice he slowed down in case one of them decided to be an idiot and jump into the road or something without seeing him.

He was just driving past when he realized – he recognized one of those brats.

It was little Byers – Will, which was easy to remember because it was another form of Billy’s own name. But the other boys – two of them – weren’t any of the other brats that Billy recognized. As the car passed the small group, the sun stopped obstructing his vision just long enough that he caught sight of a darkening shiner on Will’s face. With that, he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to just drive by anymore, so with a frustrated sigh to himself, he pulled sharply off to the side of the road, putting the car into park and getting out. He stalked behind the car, back toward the brats, just in time to see little Will get knocked into a pile of damp leaves.

“Hey!” Billy barked at them before the bigger kid could follow through on the kick he’d pulled his leg back to deliver. The kid jerked and almost fell over as he whirled to face him coming closer.

“What the fuck do you guys think you’re doing?” he demanded, coming to a stop a few feet away and scowling menacingly at them.

“It’s just zombie boy,” the smaller of the two sneered, flicking his widened gaze from Billy to Will and back to Billy again, some of his confidence reappearing as he seemed to decide that Billy wasn’t going to do anything to him. “Doing everyone a favor, cleaning up the trash here.”

“Fucking _fag_ ,” the other boy muttered with an ugly sneer down at Will, who had remained unmoving on the ground as he watched the interaction with wide, uncertain eyes. He flinched a little at the epithet thrown down at him, and tensed in weary anticipation as the kid pulled his foot back again.

A moment later the larger kid was falling on his ass, shoved there by a rough hand to his chest. Billy had stepped between Will and the bullies, glowering at them while standing at his full height, intended to menace. By the looks on their faces – some mixture of anger, confusion, and fear – it was working.

“You back off of Byers, or I’ll pound every injury he gets into your _own_ hides,” Billy told them calmly, but with unmistakable promise. “And I can promise that I hit harder than you fucks. You understand me?”

“What the hell, he’s just a _fairy_ , who _cares_ – ?” the smaller kid cut himself off with a yelp when Billy reached forward suddenly to grab the collar of his hoodie, pulling him closer.

“I _said_ ,” he spoke with a calm voice lined with steel, “Do you _understand_ me?”

Wisely, the kid nodded rapidly, all affectation of bravado disappearing in the face of Billy’s unwavering threat. “Yes, yes, we understand,” he squeaked out.

“Wonderful,” Billy drawled, releasing him with a shove toward the other kid, who was picking himself up off the ground. “Get the hell out of my sight.”

The two of them ran off in the setting dusk, not glancing back at them once. With a sigh, Billy turned to Will, bending down a little and stretching out a hand to help him back to his feet. After a moment the kid accepted it, standing up once again.

“Erm – thanks,” Will said hesitantly, brushing off the leaves sticking to the back of his pants and his jacket, avoiding his gaze.

“Yeah, don’t mention it,” Billy said absently, scrutinizing the kid, and more specifically the rapidly swelling eye. “Nice shiner you got there. They get you anywhere else?”

“N-no,” Will said unconvincingly, and Billy sighed impatiently at his reticence, grabbing his Zippo from his pocket and flicking it open.

“Look at me,” he directed, tapping Will once under the chin to get him to look up, which he was pretty sure the kid did more out of being startled into it than obedience. Other than an initial flinch at the flame being brought close to his face though, he kept his gaze tilted up at Billy’s face while Billy checked the reaction of his pupils to the light.

“Your head should be fine, but you’ll want to ice that eye,” Billy said, flicking the Zippo closed again and slipping it back into his pocket. “You having any trouble or pain when breathing?”

Will shook his head. “No – just bruised.”

“Great,” Billy sighed, and jerked his head back to where his Camaro was idling. “Come on, I’ll give you a lift home.” At least he figured that’s where he was headed – he was pretty sure he’d been at the arcade with the others before, and wasn’t sure where else a thirteen-year-old would be headed alone this time of day.

“I – I have my bike,” Will stammered a little, motioning over to a bike dumped in the dead grass, looking like it had seen much better days. After a brief glance, Billy could see also that the chain was missing – immediately he put the pieces together that the bullies had probably stolen it or broken it, and Will had been caught when he’d been walking it home.

“Yeah, I don’t think you need to risk running into those shitheels again, though,” Billy said, not addressing the chain at all, at least for the moment. “C’mon – it’ll fit in the back seat.” He turned and walked back to his car, expecting Will to grab his bike and follow him. After a moment, he heard the squeak of handlebars and Will’s quiet breathing as he puffed his way after him.

Billy was nice enough to pull the passenger seat forward so that Will could lift his bike into the back seat, and he left the guy to it as he rounded the front of his car and returned to the driver’s seat. Just as he sat down and pulled the door closed after him, Will finally managed to get the bike into place and moved the passenger seat back so that he could sit in it.

“So,” Billy said as he pulled back onto the road, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but why haven’t you ever just punched ‘em back?”

Will turned startled eyes to him, pausing his nervous fiddling with the backpack in his lap for a moment. “What?”

“I mean, you beat a fucking Mind Flogger, or whatever you guys called it”—he waved a hand at Will’s quiet, “Mind Flayer,” in correction—“and you beat monsters before. You’re not weak or whatever shit they like to tell you – why do you just take it? One solid hit and they’d stop bothering you.”

“They wouldn’t,” Will said with a cold sort of certainty, staring blankly out the windshield, mind somewhere else.

“How d’you know that?” Billy said, grabbing for his box of cigarettes and shaking one out. “You ever tried it? I bet they’d stop going around calling you ‘zombie boy.’”

“There’s always ‘fag’ and ‘fairy’ to fall back on,” Will said coolly, stonily. It was a weird expression on the kid who otherwise exuded gentle vibes all the time. “And it’s not like they’d be _wrong_ , either.”

Billy paused at the last quietly muttered words, blinking at the implications of what Will had just admitted and the weird trust – or was it challenge? – that the kid had bestowed on him. “Kid – are you…?”

“A faggot,” Will said flatly. “I like boys and not girls, and everyone in Hawkins _knows_ it because my dad used to tell all his work friends since I was in kindergarten that I was a fairy.”

Billy swallowed, because he wasn’t totally sure what to do with this information given to him. He didn’t know why the thirteen-year-old had felt the need to admit something so personal to him – for Christ’s sake, he’d interacted with him all of _once_ before today – and he didn’t really know how he was _supposed_ to react.

“Are you going to hit me now, too?” Will asked him, and his voice was so _tired_ and defeated already, clearly expecting the worst, and unwillingly Billy’s heart _ached_ because he knew exactly how Will felt.

It was at that that he realized that he _did_ in fact know how to respond – in exactly the way he had wished someone would have responded when he had been Will’s age.

“No, I think you’ve been hit enough,” Billy said through a tight throat. “You never should’ve been hit _at_ _all_ , but here’s to shitty dads, I guess.” He glanced over at the kid, who was looking at him with a look of hope bleeding through the resignation, before he looked back at the road, tapping his still unlit cigarette against the steering wheel.

“Think the worst beating I ever got was when my dad caught me with Harry Levinson.” He didn’t meet Will’s suddenly wide stare, pretending that driving took all of his focus on the road. He’d never told anyone else about the abuse, let alone the fact that he was a fag, but he was certain he could trust Will to keep his secrets for him. It was still pretty nerve-wracking though to be saying all of this out loud.

“We ended up moving out here so no one else would find out,” Billy went on. “Doesn’t change what I feel, though – I don’t think I’ll _ever_ feel attracted to a chick. Just not wired that way – God fucked it up somewhere, I guess.”

“My mom says that God doesn’t make mistakes,” Will said quietly after a few moments. “She says that God intended to make me gay, and that life will get better when I’m older and out of a small town like Hawkins.”

“Yeah?” Billy said roughly. “What do _you_ think about that?”

Another pause, and then, “I don’t know if I want to believe in a God that would make me gay just so that the whole world can hate me for it. Doesn’t sound very nice.”

Billy nodded in tired agreement. “You and me both, kid.” Then, “Not everywhere is as bad as Hawkins – your mom was right about that. Go to LA or New York – there’s always people who will hate you for it, but there’s a bigger community for people like us there so it’s not so bad.”

Will nodded. “Jonathan wants to go to NYU – he said I could come live with him once I graduate so that I can be around more people who will accept me for _me_.”

Billy had to grudgingly decide at that that perhaps Creepy Byers wasn’t so bad after all. As he pulled in to the Byers’ driveway, he said, “Good for you, kid. Don’t lose heart – this shit won’t last forever.” Maybe now he could get himself to believe that, too.

Will climbed out of the car, moving the seat forward again so he could pull out his bike. Once it was beside him in the dirt, he looked back at Billy with a slightly abashed look on his face, clenching his hands nervously around the handlebars.

“Erm – thank you. Not just for helping with Troy and James, but – everything else, too.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Billy assured him. Before Will could close the door, Billy remembered something and called, “Hey, kid! Don’t call yourself those names. Everyone else already does it enough – you shouldn’t be taking that shit from yourself either, you hear?”

Will smiled at him, a little wryly. “How well do you follow your own advice?” he countered, but it was more tired than challenging.

“Terribly, which is how I know how much it _sucks_ ,” Billy said with the honesty that was apparently his theme tonight.

Will actually _laughed_ at it though, which was weird but also Billy kind of understood that it was mostly out of relief at finding an unexpected ally, so he didn’t take offense. With a last farewell, Will closed the door, and pushed his bike across the driveway and up to the porch. Billy finally lit his cigarette, definitely _not_ watching to make sure the kid made it inside safely. It was a funny little coincidence that Billy drove away only after the front door had closed behind him.

* * *

**Mike**

For some reason that Billy could not fathom, Mike Wheeler had begun glaring at him whenever he saw him, dislike evident in his features. For the life of him Billy couldn’t figure out what the kid’s problem was, but the constipated expression on his face was getting very old very quickly.

He tried not to let it bother him. The kid was a thirteen-year-old brat whom he didn’t even cross paths with throughout the day. The most interaction they had was whatever looks passed between them whenever Billy dropped off or picked up Max after she’d been hanging out with them either in school or at the arcade. After the night where Billy had checked to be sure Hopper hadn’t hurt him before going to the lab, he hadn’t even talked with the kid – so he had no idea why he had begun looking at him so disdainfully.

But it did kind of, sort of, bother him a little bit. He may not have talked with the kid in two weeks, but he had sort of taken him under his protective wing once he’d found out how important he was to El. Maybe that was it, he decided. Maybe the kid knew Billy had sort of claimed him as his and was mad that he hadn’t talked with him in two weeks.

So, he decided to pretend as though nothing were amiss, and when he dropped off Max at school, he waved at the kid when he caught his eye when he would have otherwise just walked right into the high school without a second glance. Dustin saw him and grinned, waving back happily, and Will gave him a shy little smile too, while Lucas didn’t notice as he was watching Max. But Mike only scowled deeper at him and didn’t tear his gaze away, staring him down like he could bore a hole into him with the force of his glare. Billy raised an eyebrow before deciding that he didn’t care and turned to the sidewalk that led into the high school.

Steve was watching with a slightly surprised look on his face from where he had been standing beside his car, and he fell into step with Billy as he went to the front doors.

“Damn, Hargrove, what’d you do to piss Mike off?” he asked, laughter in his voice.

“I don’t even fucking know,” Billy groused, turning his gaze to the sky for a brief moment before looking back in front of him. “I generally piss off most of the people I hang around for any extended period of time, but I haven’t even been _around_ him for two weeks! How the fuck am I supposed to know what goes on in some dweeb’s head?”

“Yeah, I think most of the time I dated Nancy I was somehow in the doghouse with him,” Steve said, still laughing as they made it to the heated interior of the school. “I think he likes me _more_ now that I don’t show up at his house all the time.”

“I have _never_ shown up at the Wheelers’ house – I don’t know what his deal is,” Billy grumbled. “Not that I care if the little shit likes me, but it would be nice to know what the fuck is going on.”

“Sure, sure,” Steve agreed, but he clearly didn’t believe that Billy didn’t care, which was stupid, because he definitely didn’t.

“So, you got any plans for the day?” Steve changed the subject as they approached their side-by-side lockers.

Billy pulled his open – he never locked it, because everyone knew not to mess with his shit – and grabbed his Physics textbook from the pile, because he’d forgotten it over the weekend and hadn’t been able to do the homework that was due in third period.

“I promised El I’d bring her Eggos after school,” he said with a sigh like he was annoyed, but he wasn’t really because he hadn’t seen the girl in a few days now. Not that he would admit to looking forward to it. “I think it’s a ruse to watch rated R movies so Hopper can blame me for it though and not her.”

“Should she really be watching rated R movies at her age?”

Billy made a face and shut his locker. “It’s _fine_ , mom,” he mocked, causing Steve to look simultaneously abashed at the teasing and resentful of the growing nickname. “She’s mentioned wanting to watch _The Shining_ but I’m not a fucking idiot so we’re going to watch _Mad Max_ instead.”

“Well, I guess that one’s not so bad,” Steve pondered. The warning bell rang above them, but neither of them moved as at the same time a contemplative look came over Steve’s face. “Do you think…” He stopped himself, then focused on Billy again and started over. “So Mike wasn’t able to see El for about a year, and didn’t know where she was or if she was okay. Since moving here you’ve seen her several times, and Max and I have seen her – but I don’t think Mike has seen her since all that shit went down at the lab. Do you think maybe he’s jealous and that’s why he’s glaring at you so much?”

Billy blinked, because that…actually made a lot of sense. Damn, Harrington was smarter than anyone gave him credit for. And he was pretty sure he was right – Mike had been able to talk with El over the radio, but he hadn’t been out to the cabin to see El. Not like Billy was doing a few times a week, or like Steve and Max had done.

“Huh,” he said thoughtfully.

“I mean, it could be something else – Mike is a little shit at the best of times,” Steve babbled, “Who even knows what his deal is, it might not even have anything to do with you…”

“Harrington, shut up,” Billy told him patiently. “You’re probably totally right here – it’s not a bad idea.”

“Oh,” Steve blinked, and then looked up as the last bell rang, as though he would be able to see the sound or some shit. “Well – great. I’d – _we’d_ – better get to class. I’ll see you in basketball?”

“Yeah,” Billy said with a little amusement, because he didn’t know why the guy looked suddenly uncertain and awkward right then. “See you later.”

***

During lunch, Billy walked across the street to make a phone call at the phone booth, shivering in the cold of late November but being careful to keep it from his voice. Damn, he was _great_ at imitating parents, if he did say so himself. All you really had to do was be polite and don’t use slang – it fooled them every time.

A minute later he was exiting the booth, but rather than going back into the school building he made his way to his car, parking it over in front of the middle school and waiting.

His target came outside several minutes later, looking confused and concerned, and Billy rolled down his window, waving his hand while honking his horn a couple of times. Mike swung his gaze over to him, and gave him the expected scowl when he recognized him, even as he stomped his way over to the car.

He stopped beside the driver’s side door. “What do _you_ want?” he said rudely.

Billy smirked at him and raised an eyebrow over the top of his sunglasses. “I’m kidnapping you,” he drawled. “Get in.”

Wheeler didn’t move. “My grandma isn’t really sick, is she?” he said suspiciously, but like he already knew the answer. The tension in his shoulders eased a little now that he wasn’t worried about his grandma’s nonexistent illness, but they were clearly still tense in his dislike and distrust of Billy.

Billy clicked his tongue at him. “Nope. So far as I know, anyway. But it got you out of school early, and it cost me ten cents to make the phone call, so get in.”

“I’m so glad to know my kidnapping was only worth a dime,” Mike groused, but he rounded the front of the car to get to the passenger side, slipping in easily and pulling the door shut behind him. Billy immediately backed the car out of its spot, pulling out of the school lot and onto the main road while Mike was still buckling his seatbelt.

“So, why exactly _are_ you kidnapping me?” Mike asked him, looking curious despite his apparent dislike.

“Got tired of the glaring and scowling,” Billy scoffed. “Figure after today, I won’t have to deal with it.”

Mike turned his head to look at him, looking vaguely alarmed as he scooted toward the door a little, as though the extra inch kept him free of Billy’s reach. “You’re not – _actually_ going to kill me, are you?”

Billy gave him an incredulous look, a little offended. “What the fuck, _no_. And if I _were_ , there are a lot better ways to do it where I _wouldn’t_ get caught. _Jesus_.” If he’d wanted the kid dead, he could’ve easily let him die in the tunnels with the monsters, because then the government would be the ones doing the cover-up and no one could do shit about it.

“So…why am I here, then?” Mike said, looking more confused now, which was at least better than the genuine wariness he’d had a moment ago.

“Because of El,” Billy responded with a sigh. Honestly he wished El didn’t like this kid so much – he could ignore him as much as any other of Max’s friends and not have any problems with it. He imagined what life might be like if he didn’t have to make sure the little brats were getting along with everyone and were safe from bullies and monsters alike. What a strange, pleasant life that sounded like.

But Mike was scowling again, which – what the hell, Billy hadn’t even _done_ anything this time. He was taking the dweeb to go see her! What did he have to be angry about?

“You can be obsessed with her all you want, but it’s never going to work,” Mike told him severely before Billy could demand answers.

“ _What’s_ not going to work?” Billy said, too confused to be irritated with the kid’s attitude. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I can tell you like her,” Mike said, keeping up his deep scowl while his hands clenched into fists on his lap. “But she’s _different_ , and she doesn’t need _you_.”

“Of course she doesn’t need me – she’s a badass in her own right,” Billy said, still confused at what was going on. “I don’t know what that has to do with…”

“Your crush on her is _hopeless_ and _dumb_!” Mike burst out. “You go see her _all the time_ …!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa – _no_ ,” Billy interrupted, too revolted by his sudden understanding to let the kid continue his ranting. “That’s – that’s disgusting, she’s a _child_. She’s fucking _twelve_ years old, I don’t have a _crush_ on her!”

Mike looked unconvinced. “You’re only four years older than her – my dad was twenty-two when he married my mom, and it’s the same age difference.”

“Okay, that – _no_ ,” Billy said with emphasis, pointing his finger at him expressively, pulling it back when he had the genuine concern that Mike might try to bite it off. “First of all, an eighteen-year-old and a twenty-two-year-old is a _far_ smaller age gap than a sixteen-year-old and a twelve-year-old. Secondly, El is younger than my _actual_ sister – that’s fucking _creepy_. Thirdly, if a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old or someone even _older_ than that comes barking after you or any of your friends, get the hell out of there and point me in their direction so that I can pummel them into the fucking ground. That’s disgusting, and _far_ from okay.”

Mike looked startled at the vehemence with which he made his last point, probably not having expected the protectiveness to be directed so visibly toward him for a change, especially after the misassumptions he’d been operating under for the last couple of weeks. Then he looked contemplative, his hackles lowering as he seemed to realize that Billy was telling the truth, which Billy could only be grateful for because the very _idea_ of crushing on El sent waves of revulsion through him so strong he had to shake his arms a little to get rid of the gross feeling. That was like crushing on _Max_. Which, in case you missed it – _gross_.

“So…you _don’t_ like El romantically,” Mike said, but it wasn’t so much a question as it was trying the fact on for size.

“ _Definitely_ not,” Billy said anyway, grimacing again. “Sinclair – doesn’t he have a younger sister?” He was pretty sure that Max had mentioned her a couple of times.

Mike looked confused at the direction the conversation had taken. “Yeah, Erica – why?”

“How old is she?”

“She’ll be nine in February.”

Billy nodded. Okay, perfect – exactly the age gap he needed to make his point. “So would you think it was normal if you – or Dustin or Will – ever looked at her and wanted to kiss her?”

Instantly Mike’s expression transformed to one of deep disgust. “Ew, _gross_!”

Billy nodded seriously. “ _Exactly_.”

“But she’s like – she’s like _all_ our little sister,” Mike said, grimace still etched firmly on his face. “It’d be _nasty_ to like her like that.”

Billy nodded again. “ _Exactly_ ,” he repeated.

“Oh – _oh_ ,” Mike said, voice finally, _finally_ , lit with realization. “So you like _El_ as like, a little sister.” He didn’t bother waiting for Billy’s confirmation, which was good because Billy was pretty spent on serious emotional talks for the day. “That’s – okay. I’m glad.”

“Good,” Billy said dryly. _Jesus_.

“So – if that’s not what you wanted to talk about, then what did you mean you kidnapped me because of El?” Mike asked him.

Billy sighed, wishing he could go back to twenty minutes beforehand when he’d thought Mike’s dislike of him was much simpler and less revolting. “I figure you miss her, and it’s better to visit earlier in the day if you don’t want the possibility of running into Hopper.”

“Oh,” Mike’s expression lit up with excitement; Billy was surprised he wasn’t bouncing in his seat for how expressive he was. “Cool! Thanks!”

Apparently all was well now, and Mike had zero reservations anymore about being alone in the car with him. Billy briefly mourned the reputation he could practically _hear_ fizzling down the drain, but shoved it aside as he pulled into the grocery store parking lot, to Mike’s confusion.

“What’re we doing here?” he asked as Billy parked. “I thought we were going to see El.”

“We are,” Billy said wryly, unbuckling his seatbelt. “But I promised El a box of Eggos next time I came, and I really don’t want to deal with the pouting if I don’t follow through.”

“Oh,” Mike said, immediately accepting the explanation as he followed Billy out of the car. “El really likes Eggos.”

 _Yeah,_ Billy thought amusedly as they walked inside, _I fuckin’ know she does._

* * *

**Lucas ( & Max)**

Billy tossed his jacket on the arm of the couch as he walked through the living room. He’d left his wallet in his other jacket and not realized it till he was at school that morning, but he needed to get some more cigarettes and some beer. He needed to get it before Neil got home though, because he wasn’t sure what the man’s mood was going to be or if he would prevent him from going out again if Billy waited until later.

As he walked down the hallway toward his own room though, he noticed that Max’s bedroom door was shut, and he could hear her voice inside. He frowned a little to himself, because he could’ve sworn Max had said when he’d dropped her off that morning that she would be hanging out with the boys after school. He thought she would’ve gone to the arcade with them, as was becoming usual for her because of something involving a bet and a high score with Dustin. He hoped they hadn’t made her upset so she’d had to return home early.

After a moment of waffling to himself, he decided to go check on her, because if she was crying then Neil might think it was his fault and take it out on him. It was definitely _not_ because he was worried that something might have happened. If it had, that was her own business.

He rapped twice on the door before opening it without waiting for a response. “Hey, Max…”

He stopped, because Max wasn’t alone. His vision began to go cloudy around the edges, heart suddenly beginning to gallop at double time, because Max was sitting on her bed with crossed legs, and sitting at the desk right next to Max’s bed was Lucas _fucking_ Sinclair.

Several things ticked through his mind at once: the alarm clock on Max’s bedside table that read _4:38_. The memory of Neil’s work schedule, that he usually got home around five o’ clock. The bike that he hadn’t even taken particular note of when he’d passed it on the porch, but that he knew Neil would not dismiss so easily, would feel the need to come investigate. The way Sinclair was leaning toward Max, and they had what was obviously their homework laid out in front of them. The memory of Neil sneering down at a ten-year-old Billy with a newly bestowed bloody lip and a black eye, saying to _stay away from those niggers if you know what’s good for either of you_.

“No, _nope_ ,” Billy rattled, shoving the door open wider and hurrying to the desk, grabbing Sinclair’s backpack off the ground and stuffing his homework and books inside. “Get out, you need to _get the fuck out_.”

“What – _Billy_!” Max protested, getting off the bed quickly and grabbing the strap of Lucas’ backpack, trying to yank it away from him. He let it go, because he was done putting the stuff back in it anyway, and grabbed Lucas’ jacket from the foot of the bed. “Billy, _stop_ it, what the hell?!”

“Are you deaf?” he demanded, heart pounding as he shoved the jacket into Sinclair’s arms, who was just staring with a vaguely shocked expression on his face, not doing anything either to stop him or to help him. “Get out, get _out_!”

“Billy…!” Max protested again, the sound of her anger growing exponentially, but Sinclair still wasn’t moving, so Billy grabbed him by the shoulder and began propelling him forcefully out the door, down the hallway. Max chased quickly after them, shouting protests along the way, which Billy summarily ignored.

At last Sinclair seemed to find himself, because once he was out the door to Max’s bedroom he began fighting against Billy’s grip, twisting to try and get away.

“Dude, what the hell, let me go!” he protested. Billy only tightened his grip as he shoved him down the hallway, the struggles of the younger boy a minor inconvenience to his greater strength.

“Are you fucking _insane_?” Billy hissed, heart beating rapidly in his chest and his vision tunneled with black at the edges, turning Lucas into his focal point. “No black people should _ever_ be invited into this house!”

“ _Billy_!” Max’s voice said behind him, sounding shocked and angry and betrayed, but in his grasp Lucas only stopped fighting, but was somehow more tense than before as he stared back at Billy with wide, dark eyes before turning his head back to watch where he was walking.

Billy hardly noticed the change in Lucas’ demeanor, too focused on getting him out, and when they walked out the front door he grabbed Lucas’ bike in one hand and kept a hold of the boy with the other, moving them quickly toward his Camaro.

“Billy, _stop_!” Max protested, grabbing onto the arm that held Lucas. Billy let the boy go only to shake her off, throwing open the car door and shoving the bike haphazardly into the back seat. Lucas was looking at him strangely when he turned, but Billy paid it no mind as he grabbed the boy again and tried forcing him into the car, against Max’s continued protest.

Lucas resisted, saying something about getting home on his own, and Max was still angrily yelling at him, so Billy whirled on her in an instant, attention turned away from the kid for the moment.

“Max, stop being such a _fucking idiot_!” he snarled, practically spitting in her angrily reddened face. “Neil gets home in less than twenty fucking minutes, and you have a black boy _in your room_!”

“So fucking _what_?!” Max shouted, too angry to understand for the moment, and with an angry growl, Billy turned back to Lucas, ready to shove him in the car again because they _didn’t have time for this_.

He was vaguely surprised to see that Lucas was getting in the car of his own volition this time, and Billy didn’t know what had caused the kid to change his mind but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth and he just slammed the door after him and moved toward the driver’s side.

“I’m coming with you!” Max called, her tone daring him to deny her as he opened his door.

“I don’t fucking care – just get in the damn car!” Billy ordered, sliding in himself and shoving the keys into the ignition. He threw the car into reverse just as Max got into the passenger seat, and he backed out of the driveway even as Max pulled the door closed after her. Lucas watched quietly from his spot in the backseat next to his bike, expression intent but otherwise unreadable.

“What the hell is your _problem_ , asshole?” Max demanded as Billy peeled down Old Cherry Road, uncaring of the snow and ice. “Why are you being such a racist piece of shit?”

Billy threw her an incredulous look – she could not possibly _still_ be this naïve and stupid. “You think _I_ fucking care that you’re friends with a black kid?”

“Well, _excuse_ me for the confusion, I must’ve misunderstood the manhandling of my _black friend_ out of the house!” Max said hotly.

“Max, I don’t think…” Lucas started, but Billy cut across him.

“Harry was a fucking _Jew_!” he reminded her angrily. “And we saw how well that turned out, didn’t we?”

“I said I was sorry for that!”

“Apparently not sorry enough to not make the same mistakes!” Billy gestured roughly to the kid in the backseat, who was watching the back and forth between them with wide eyes. “Jesus _Christ_ , Max, do you really not understand what Neil would _do_ if he found out you two were together? And worse, in _his house_?”

Max paused, finally, _finally_ understanding his words, his panic and his anger of the past few minutes. She looked at Lucas, who was watching her with an expression like he had already understood and accepted Billy’s motivations, and then back at Billy, at the way he clenched his hands around the steering wheel, eyes wide and darting, like Neil might pop up at any moment to see Lucas in his car and unharmed, proof that Billy was helping him, was on his side. Immediately shame welled up in her, that she had immediately jumped to the worst conclusion, thought that Billy was just being an asshole, and that it had been someone who didn’t know him nearly so well who had figured out that Billy was _protecting_ them from someone much worse. She vowed to herself to stop seeing the worst in Billy first, because he deserved better than that.

“It wouldn’t just be _Lucas_ who would be in deep shit,” Billy told her meaningfully. Billy would be, for _letting_ her be around him – and he sneered at the very thought of that, because anyone who knew Max knew that she couldn’t be controlled by _anyone_ , despite Neil’s expectations for him to “keep her in line” – and so would Max, for allowing herself to be “soiled”. If Neil ever found out Max was friends with a black kid, had let him into her room even, then Billy couldn’t imagine that he would keep his punches and slaps and kicks away from her any longer. She wouldn’t be his “precious daughter” anymore – she would be just as soiled as Billy was.

 _God_ , he wanted a cigarette. But he remembered suddenly that he was out, and he’d never made it to his room to get his wallet, so he probably wasn’t going to get any tonight – not unless Neil was in a good mood, which Billy could never expect.

“You need to be extra cautious here,” Billy told both of them, forcing himself to calm now that the initial panic was past them. “It’s a small town, and people recognize you. If a _single_ comment makes it back to Neil, we’re all in deep shit. That means no going to our house, _ever_ , and if you’re in public together you don’t walk next to each other, and keep the rest of your band of nerds around you so that the company can be blamed on others. You do not talk about each other to others, and around the right people you make racist, homophobic, anti-Semitic comments so that if and when it gets back to Neil he can think you’re _just like him_.” He sneered the last words, unwittingly echoing the same rules he’d given to himself years ago – the rules that were the only way to keep himself safe from Neil’s abuse.

(Not that it had worked particularly well – he still remembered the beating when Neil had learned that he had made an _effort_ to learn Spanish so that he could connect with his friends in basketball more, because _we live in **America** – those beaners should learn **English** , not expect to be allowed to overrun the country with their wetback language._)

He shook himself from the bad memories, pushing them to the back of his mind where they normally sat in wait to drown him at an opportune time, and flicked his gaze to Lucas in the rearview mirror, and then over at Max.

“Do you guys understand?” he gritted out, because if Max decided to be a rebellious little shit right now then they were all fucked.

But Max only nodded rapidly, a moment before Lucas did.

“Good,” Billy blew out a breath as he turned onto the main road that would take him to the side of town with Lucas’ house – the opposite side of town, with the newer houses, because the Sinclairs were much more well off financially than Neil had ever been or ever would be. “I’ll head off whatever I can with Neil, but you two need to do your part, too.” He glared, to impress on both of them the seriousness of his request – his _demand_.

“We’re sorry,” Lucas told him, sounding subdued. “We didn’t really think about it.”

Billy didn’t say how they _should’ve_ thought of it, especially Lucas because he had surely grown up having to be aware of these problems and he couldn’t assume that just because he and Max were fine with him that their parents would be too. Max should’ve at least _guessed_ , because she had seen what happened in California, and typically homophobia and racism went hand-in-hand, even without the anti-Semitism to pile on top of it.

But he didn’t say that, because they _were_ just kids, and at least they seemed to grasp the concept now, so it would just be an asshole move now to push it onto them further. He only hoped that they stuck with their promise. Definitely just to save his own hide, though. Maybe Max’s, too. This whole talk was completely selfish, he told himself.

When they got to the Sinclair house, Billy got out to help the boy with his bike. Before he could make the walk up the sidewalk, Billy clapped a hand on his shoulder, bringing him to a halt, because his being in Max’s room alone reminded him of a certain _other_ talk he needed to have with the kid.

“Sinclair,” he said in a pleasant voice that made the boy immediately suspicious, if the squinted eyes were any clue. “I know you like Max. And I know she likes you. So I say this only once: you treat her well, and we will have no problem. But if you hurt her”—he bent his head a little, closer into the kid’s face, his smile going a little sharp—“I will return that pain to you hundredfold.”

“Oh my _God_ , Billy!” Max protested loudly behind him, sounding mortified. He hadn’t realized that she’d rolled down her window so that she could hear them.

He ignored it for now, though. ~~He was her brother; he was allowed to give potential suitors the shovel talk.~~ He only raised an eyebrow at Lucas, saying coolly, “You got that?”

Lucas nodded, face a little flushed but not looking particularly afraid – but his expression was serious enough that Billy wasn’t offended, because he knew that the kid was taking him seriously.

“Good,” Billy said, satisfied as he released Lucas’ shoulder. He glanced up at the house when there was movement out the corner of his eye, and saw the face of a young girl peering suspiciously out the front window, the light from inside spilling out around her into the dark night. He raised an eyebrow before looking back down at Lucas. “Think your sister’s waiting for you.”

Lucas rolled his eyes at his sister and adjusted his grip on the handlebars. “Thanks,” he said suddenly. “For – caring.”

Billy was immediately affronted, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I don’t _care_ ,” he scowled, sounding a bit petulant to his own ears. “Just – get the hell inside.”

Lucas rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, you’re still an asshole,” he said dryly, beginning to move his bike through the snow up to his front porch. “But you’re not _all_ bad.”

Billy huffed and stomped back around the car to get back inside while Max called farewell to her friend. _Caring_. Hmph. He definitely didn’t care about Lucas or any of his little dweeb friends. Max was only a little acceptable, but she had to be – he lived with her. Life would suck if he hated her presence completely. So he cared a _little_ for her, he supposed.

“It is _not_ the 1800s, Billy,” Max said as he pulled away from the curb, turning to scowl at him. “I don’t need you defending my honor or whatever the hell that was with Lucas.”

He scoffed dismissively. Scratch that – her presence was _horribly_ obnoxious.

* * *

**Dustin**

“Why the fuck are you asking _me_ about this, man?” Billy flopped dramatically into the corner of the couch, ignoring Steve’s laughter from the other side of the room. He held the phone to his ear, because the Harringtons were rich enough to have one of those phones without a cord attaching you to the base. It was convenient and Billy was taking full advantage.

“Because I have different hair than Steve does!” Dustin’s voice told him on the other end of the line. “I have curly hair like you, so you probably know more about what to do with it than Steve.”

“I have a mullet, Henderson – you want me to cut that for you?” Billy vaguely threatened.

“ _No_!” Dustin emphasized, sounding scandalized. “But I figure the basics have got to be the same – it’s still curly like mine. It’s even almost the same color!”

“Didn’t Harrington already _tell_ you how to do your hair?” Billy groaned, glaring at the boy in question.

“All he told me was how to wash it and what hairspray to use!” Dustin protested, and Billy closed his eyes, because much as he hated to admit it, the kid definitely needed more instruction than _that_. Not everything was instinctual, _Steve_.

“Ugh,” he groaned into the receiver, and glanced at his watch to see how much time he had before he had to go and pick up Max. “Alright, kid, if you can be here within the next forty minutes, we’ll see what I can do.” He hung up on the boy’s ecstatic, repeated thanks, and glared over at Steve once again.

“I fucking _told_ you they were leeches,” he griped. “Let the record show that I was right, and that I told you so.”

“Duly noted,” Steve laughed, coming over and dropping down beside him on the couch.

“Everything about this is being done unwillingly,” Billy emphasized. “When the hell did I become a damn mentor?”

“Poor baby,” Steve said with mock sympathy. Billy knew he was teasing, but his heart still jumped a little at the words and the tone in which they were given, heat pooling in his gut. He coughed and pushed the feeling away immediately.

“At least El isn’t calling me to ask for advice too,” Billy grumbled. “She already _knows_ how to do hair. _And_ makeup. I think she learned from a _lot_ of magazines.” And Kali, but he didn’t really want to talk about that girl right then.

Steve looked confused. “I thought she wasn’t allowed to leave the cabin?”

Billy grinned wolfishly at him. “I convinced Hopper to let her out for the night. She’s going to surprise Mike.” Steve laughed, looking delighted. “I’m still unclear, though – is this shindig called the ‘Snow Ball’ or the ‘Snowball’?”

“That’s the whole point, dumbass,” Steve snorted. “It’s a pun – it’s both.”

“Stupid,” Billy scoffed. “Just call it a Winter Dance like everyone else.” Although in California, it was always some variation of an “under the sea” theme, so he supposed he shouldn’t go throwing stones.

Dustin arrived a little over a half hour later, huffing and puffing his way up the walk despite the fact that his mom had driven him over. He was dressed in a blue plaid suit, which looked a bit odd but Billy didn’t say anything about it. He was also carrying a brown paper bag, which he thrust into Billy’s hands as soon as he made it inside.

“The hell is this…?” Billy trailed off as he stared at the hairspray he’d pulled from the bag, and at the label that proclaimed it _Farrah Fawcett Hairspray_.

“That’s the one Steve told me to get!” Dustin said happily, unaware of the growing expression of amusement on Billy’s face as he met Steve’s eyes.

“You use this stuff, pretty boy?” Billy teased, flicking his tongue against his teeth.

“She knows her stuff!” Steve protested, cheeks pink. Billy continued to grin, and Steve turned a half-hearted glare on the younger boy.

“I told you your ass is grass, Henderson,” he threatened.

“You’re the one who told me to ask Billy for advice!” Dustin defended. “You should’ve guessed that the topic would come up!”

Steve only sighed resignedly and rolled his eyes. “Come on, then – bathroom’s this way,” he said, leading the way down the hall.

“It’s not a bad hairspray,” Billy allowed, standing behind Dustin and inspecting his curls. “We’ll use what we’ve got. What products have you used in your hair so far today?”

“Shampoo and conditioner,” Dustin reported, watching Billy’s hands working through his curls. “It should still be damp – I showered right before calling Steve and haven’t touched it.”

“Good,” Billy approved. “That should be fine.”

It took about fifteen minutes to get Dustin’s hair done to satisfaction, and Billy worked to ignore the way Steve was watching carefully the entire time. He focused instead on instructing the younger boy on how to do his hair on his own later, how he should never brush his hair, how he needed to embrace the curls or it just looked weird, how he needed to use the hairspray very lightly or it just looked greasy, and while some people could pull that off Dustin was definitely not one of them. When he was finished, Dustin’s hair didn’t look _too_ much different than it had previously, but it definitely looked more put together, the curls fluffy and bouncy. He was pretty proud of it, if he did say so himself.

“Awesome, thanks!” Dustin said enthusiastically, and then just like any other kid, ran off to the kitchen in search of some food to pilfer before the dance.

Billy glanced at his watch, seeing that he probably needed to leave to be able to get Max in time for the dance. Susan should be almost done helping her get ready.

“I gotta head out,” he said, putting the cap back on the hairspray. “You still up for meeting at the quarry during this stupid dance?”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, arms casually folded as he leaned against the wall. Then, “You know a lot about hair.”

Billy grinned at him. “Gotta keep up my own, don’t I?” he countered. “It takes _effort_ to look this good. You ought to know that for yourself, pretty boy.”

“Yeah, I guess I do,” Steve agreed once again, smiling amusedly in return. “I guess I know now why your hair always stays so _curly_.”

Billy’s grin went wolfish and amused. “Farrah Fawcett knows her stuff,” he echoed Steve’s previous words. He laughed at Steve’s sudden surprised look and moved past him, back toward the front door. “I’ll catch you later, pretty boy.”

* * *

**The Party**

If Billy had to pin the blame on someone, it would be Dustin. The little shit was loud and annoying and to be perfectly honest, he was the easiest target for his ire. He ignored the fact that everything had started because he’d come across El in the woods – she was a badass but also an angel, as far as he was concerned, so he was going to put the blame on the more convenient shithead.

What was he blaming him for? Well, he had once been intimidating. A force to be reckoned with. In the first few days in Hawkins he had established that among his peers. But now suddenly – it definitely started after Dustin had called him to ask for a ride back in November, and not a _moment_ before – he was just as much a babysitter as Harrington was, and the little monsters were all immune to his glares when they piled around his car after school the last day before winter break.

Honestly, the very fact that he mentally referred to them all by their first names made him shudder inwardly in horror. It was an accidental habit, and it had been too late to turn back the clock by the time he realized it.

“The hell do you guys want?” Billy said around the cigarette dangling from his lips, talking over the overlapping voices.

“Will you give us a ride to the arcade?” Mike asked him hopefully.

Billy glared. “And why the hell would I do that?”

“Because we’ll keep asking until you say yes!” Dustin piped in with a cheeky grin.

“You’re already taking Max anyway!” Lucas insisted, which he most certainly was _not_. Max had said earlier that she would skate over with everyone else after school. The only reason he was even still in the parking lot was because he was waiting for Harrington to come out like he was his fucking girlfriend or something to ask about meeting up over break. He hadn’t had a chance to clarify that they would still be meeting up during school, but he didn’t want to risk Steve calling the house when Neil was home.

“Why haven’t you asked Harrington?” he deflected instead of saying all of this, because no one needed to know how much he wanted to be around the guy as much as possible – they might get the wrong idea. ~~Or exactly the right idea.~~ “ _He’s_ the babysitter.”

“We don’t need a babysitter!” Max said hotly, her quick temper flaring up immediately, as Billy had somewhat expected it to.

“We didn’t bring our bikes today and I forgot my jacket, so we don’t really want to walk all the way over there and then have to walk home when we’re done,” Mike explained.

Billy was about to argue again, before Mike’s words processed and he took in the fact that Mike was in fact wearing only a hoodie. But a moment later, he looked at Will, who hadn’t spoken as yet, and noted that he was wearing a coat that was a bit too big for him – one that Billy would bet money was actually Mike’s, and that he’d loaned it to him earlier in the day.

He remembered what the inside of the Byers’ house looked like, and he remembered how he’d noticed Will’s clothes before, and even Jonathan’s, how they all seemed to be secondhand and just slightly outdated. He’d surmised previously that Will’s family was much poorer than his friends’ families – he remembered that his mom only worked at the grocery store, and Will’s dad was (thankfully) out of the picture. Will had probably outgrown his coat and not gotten a chance to get a new one this year, and Mike had noticed.

He knew how it felt to be poor, how it felt to feel the need to hide that he was just a little different from others around him, and he felt his heart squeeze a little at the fact that Mike had not only cared enough to loan Will his coat but also couch his explanation in something that didn’t draw attention to Will. He didn’t know why he had thought Mike wouldn’t be the sort of person to do something like that – this was his best friend, after all. And making it sound like everyone was too cold to go – well, that made sense, too.

He didn’t want to let on that he’d realized the problem though – it wouldn’t help anything and would only serve to embarrass Will further – so in the instant that these thoughts all passed through his mind, he huffed out a breath and moved to the trunk of his car, popping it open and grabbing his denim jacket before closing the trunk again. It wasn’t as warm as his leather one, so he hadn’t worn it since November before it had gotten too cold for it, but it was better than nothing.

“Here,” Billy directed, tossing the jacket at Mike, who scrambled to catch it before it could hit the snowy ground.

“This smells like cigarettes – my mom is going to think I’ve started smoking!” Mike protested. “I’ll be grounded until I’ve graduated!”

“Not my problem, Wheeler,” Billy glared, opening the passenger door. Ungrateful brat.

Mike looked about to ask for a ride again, thinking that this was all Billy was going to do, before Billy leaned over and moved the chair forward, and then stepped back to glare at all of them.

“Well?” he demanded when none of them moved. “Get in.”

The boys scrambled to obey, and Billy pointedly ignored Max’s smug grin. He grabbed her collar before she could climb into the back with Lucas. “Ah-ah. Henderson – get in the back. Shitbird, you’ve got shotgun.” No way he needed his little sister squished between boys – he wasn’t going to be encouraging any of that sort of nonsense in his own car.

Max huffed and rolled her eyes, but she didn’t protest as Dustin got into the back before pulling the chair back so that she could sit in it.

“Ugh – Lucas, move your fat ass!” Dustin was groaning as Billy opened his own door and slid inside, sticking the keys into the ignition.

“Fat ass?” Lucas repeated, outraged. “That’s rich, coming from you!”

“Oh my God, shut _up_ ,” Billy moaned. “Anyone who can’t stop being a little shit for the ten minutes it takes to get there is walking home, I don’t even fucking care.”

His threat was successful in making them stop their arguing – at least for a few minutes – and he blew out a breath as he pulled out of the school parking lot, flicking the butt of his cigarette out the window. When Dustin complained about the cold wind coming in through the window, Billy gave him a fierce glare through the rearview mirror and pointedly kept the window open for the entire drive to the arcade, despite how he himself bore the brunt of the chill, being right next to it.

He ignored their chattering starting up again as they got to the arcade parking lot, because it was only a few more seconds with them in the car and it just wasn’t worth the argument. He pulled up right in front of the doors, staying in his seat and waiting as Max climbed out first, followed by the boys.

“See you in a couple of hours!” Dustin called cheerily, giving him a little wave despite Billy’s annoyed glare.

“Thanks for the ride,” Will told him, the last to get out of the car, giving him a little smile, and Billy’s hackles settled somewhat at the genuine thanks. He gave him a begrudging nod of acknowledgement and returned his glare to Lucas, who was giving him a grin just as cheeky as the one Dustin had given him while he followed Max inside.

Will closed the door behind him, and Billy immediately roared away in the Camaro. He glanced in the rearview mirror as he went, for driving safety and definitely not to check that the little shits had made it inside safely.

Fucking _leeches_.

**Author's Note:**

> Summary of Lucas and Max section: Billy comes home to find Lucas and Max in her room. He panics, because Neil will be home soon, and shoves Lucas into his car to take him home. Max insists on coming along, believing that Billy is being an ass because _he's_ racist. In the ensuing discussion he impresses on them how to hide their friendship, and throughout he remembers some of Neil's words and reactions when he has been friendly toward Mexicans, blacks, and Jews in the past. (The one with Jews is a single line about how Harry had been Jewish, and there's not any slurs there but because we know the story we can infer that Neil wasn't just angry because Billy had been with another boy but also because that boy was Jewish.) The slurs used include n*gger, wetback, and beaner, and only in memory of actual quotes Neil has said. In the quote about Mexicans is also derogatory speech about immigrants, and about the Spanish language. Billy takes Lucas home and gives him a little shovel talk, which Lucas is fine with because he understands Billy now, he thinks. 
> 
> So! Whether you read all or part of it, I hope you liked it. I had thought this was going to be more akin to a 5+1 where the last one would be Joyce adopting Billy in return, but the flow was better just to have it focused on the Party. I may end up writing in the future when Joyce adopts him - it depends on how my ideas flow. ;) Dustin's part is also shorter because Billy had already sort of softened to him in the last installment (not that he would ever admit it) when Dustin asked for a ride to school. He is actually my favorite but I didn't really know what else to do to make them bond - all my ideas would require Steve and Billy already being together, so instead I got Billy involved in his hair. Also because I wanted to save him from the atrocity of a hairdo he had in the show, and this was the only way I could see it happening. XD
> 
> Anyway. I hope you liked it - I always love the encouragement from you guys! <3


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